It's Just Another Scar
by millmasterwrites
Summary: And that's all it is.


Two ghostly figures circled each other, ectoplasm blazing and weapons brandishing. Harsh laughter erupted as the larger drove a blade towards the other, and was met by a shining device that was shoved straight into his face.

There was a brief shriek, a thud and a mumble of swift words, and all was still. The night seemed to swallow all sound.

Then Phantom, agonizingly slow, raised himself just enough that his body wasn't practically a rug along the ground. With a hiss if pain he fell back against the brick of the wall, his head slumped, in the dark asphalt corridor. His breath was ragged as he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth.

Of course. A damned alley.

And of all the places he had to end up in after a fight with Skulker, this just had to be it. Cool and dark, precisely how his type of ghost should have liked it. The only downside was that it was incredibly uncomfortable and smelled of rotting trash. Not exactly the best place to almost re-die in.

At least he'd managed to rip himself off of the edge of the ghost's blade and capture him in the thermos before he'd really been screwed over. No one actually wanted to be a mounted pelt on a wall, would they? That wouldn't have been much of a pretty sight. For him, at least.

But as for the wound, it was fairly bad, yes, but he was a fast enough healer. Give him a few hours and...

"...Hello? Mr...Mr. Phantom?"

The ghost's eyes opened to mere slits at the mention of his name, spilling glints of green light into the alley. He groaned, leaning heavily to the side.

Now who'd stumbled upon him? Didn't anyone ever realize that ghosts needed to be left alone to heal?

"Go...awa-on your way, citizen."

However, the boy, no more than ten years old with scruffy brown hair, was persistent. He tapped the ghost's boot with his own sneaker.

Phantom wondered why in the hell this kid was even out this late.

He shifted away from the child, painfully wrapping his arms tighter around his left side. Something oozed, green and slick, between the ghost's fingers. The boy peered closer, rocking back on his heels with a concerned expression fixed on his face when the faintly glowing figure in front of him made a strangled coughing noise. Specks of green splattered down on the asphalt.

"D-Danny Phantom...? Are you...are you okay?"

Huh. Okay. So maybe he wasn't healing right. He'd always started to heal quickly, but he'd never gotten worse. He just wasn't supposed to get worse.

Maybe he just needed to focus harder. He wasn't anywhere near out if power yet, after all. As long as he didn't move, he'd be fine. His eyes slid shut.

But the kid that'd run into him just wouldn't leave him alone. His tiny hands grabbed a hold of the ghost's shoulders.

Phantom's eyes snapped open. His stark green gaze locked onto the boy, who flinched, and the ghost shied away, further against the wall. Toxic green slipped down his side and pooled on the cool pavement.

"You don't look so good, you know. What happened to you?" The young boy tipped his head to the side as he crouched next to the ghost, who didn't answer.

Alright. Now he really felt like shit. Why weren't his healing powers kicking in yet?

"I...I'm gonna go get my dad. He can help you, okay? S-stay here. You're gonna be all better in a…in a…bit. Just stay here."

The little boy dashed off and whipped around the corner of the alley.

Finally.

But now he had to clear out of the place. It definitely wouldn't be a good option, staying there after he'd been discovered. He couldn't fly; he'd undoubtedly change back to Fenton and get himself killed that way.

Throwing away the idea that he could just lie there and heal himself, he thrust his feet under him and grappled at the wall for support. He let out a gasp of surprise as the edge of his torso seemed to tear at the seams and burned. What little healing his body had done had been put to waste. That definitely wasn't good.

Clasping a hand to his side, he stumbled further down the alley, hardly keeping on his feet. His best bet was to make it to Sam's to get patched up. Again.

He continued at his snail pace through the winding back alleys that he'd grown to know like the back of his hand. He had to have been a few blocks from the Goth's house when his legs finally crumpled beneath him and he nearly fell face-first into the dirt. A low moan rose in his throat as he sagged flush with the cool ground. His side felt like it'd been doused in gasoline and lit with hell's fire. Maybe he really was dying the rest of the way.

His eyes drifted shut as he curled around himself in the bottom of the alley. He had to admit, it wasn't everyday a halfa suddenly disappeared from existence. Maybe he'd just stay a complete ghost, or even pass over to whatever place was left beyond. Just so long as this ridiculous pain creeping up his side would finally go away…

Suddenly there was someone running in the alley, and the roaring noise of two sets of boots shocked him into alertness. He stiffened, ready to escape.

"Danny!"

He shakily raised his head at the shout.

"Sam…?" His throat was full of needles and he hacked again, his insides feeling like they were all on separate planes of existence. "Tucker…? Wha—"

And then Sam was at his side, gathering him into a sloppy, crushing hug that screamed of worry. Her hands ghosted over his, prying them away from the wound. He wished he had the energy to do anything, just to tell her he was okay.

Tucker, lagging behind, but amazingly only by a few seconds, dropped next to his best friend, breathless. "Dude! Where were you? We've been—" He stopped cold as his eyes took in the gaping hole in Phantom's side. Green continued to drip from the jagged slice.

"Danny? What happened? Like we saw the trail but…Oh man, oh man, we need to get you fixed up holy shit not again—"

"Tucker, calm down," Sam neatly cut in, but tears still obviously pricked her eyes. "It's not so terrible. He's been through worse. We've got this." She traced her fingers through Phantom's ruffled white hair.

Tucker's gaze hardened and he nodded. The tech wiz and Goth nearly effortlessly lifted Phantom's battered form of the pavement. Sam continued to comb her fingers through his hair calmingly.

"Can you hear us alright, Danny? We're gonna take you back to my place and stitch you up. No one will ever notice." Her voice was cool and soft. Soothing. It numbed the pain some.

"Mm…"

Yeah, getting patched together again did sound nice.

Even if it was just another scar.


End file.
